#WritcoStoryChallenge
In the dimly lit gallery, amidst whispers of admiration and awe, I found myself standing before a painting. Its edges were softened with time, the once vibrant hues now mellowed to a gentle warmth. It was a masterpiece, undoubtedly, but as I held it in my hands, a chilling thought crept in—had I stolen it?

Memories were elusive, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. I couldn't...